Capable of Being Saved
by BreezyBree
Summary: A spin-off "Klaroline" story set a few years from now. Caroline shows up wanting Klaus's help after he vows to let her live her life with Tyler. What exactly does she need? Why is Klaus the only one who can help? Did Klaus's predictions in the past prove true? - Should I continue? Comment if so! Thank you. Rating would excel with chapters! Critique/compliments are appreciated!


_Whispered words still echo in an inebriated mind; and though they were uttered some years back, I'd like to think that Caroline was my saving grace. She didn't mend me by the likes of which I'd selfishly hoped, but she did offer up the one sentiment that just might ease the pain of the day and lessen the blow that an eternity alone dealt._

Its not everyday that you find yourself wishfully thinking, or at least I never did. I didn't question the frivolous things of my past, nor did I ponder what might have been. If loving Caroline taught me anything, its that actions don't always define who we are. By every means, outwardly I am a monster, that much hasn't changed; and yet, internally I'm capable of something deeper. Father, Mother, Brothers, and Sister be damned. Its just not like me to show my weakness. In leaving Mystic Falls behind, I didn't go on a hopelessly romantic journey to find some damsel that was mine for the taking. I did, however, do a silent soul searching. To credit a sarcastic Salvatore to whom I share a unspoken kinship toward: I am now "bad with a purpose". As promised, this at least makes me "worth being forgiven". Does it not?

Today, as the sun sets in the west and the crisp air of New England in the winter claims me, I do find myself reflecting upon how things might of went had I not parted ways with Caroline so briskly.

Of course, there's always the tiniest notion that I could have compelled her. I could have made the woman I loved everything I wanted and more, and yet I could never bring myself to do it. Having reigned control of vampires, werewolves, and hybrids alike, nothing compared to the satisfaction of knowing that one's affections and loyalty were not bound by fear or forced behavior, but by free will.

I wanted that in Caroline. I wanted her to fall for me, and not because of my influence.

After contemplating manipulation, the second option always filters into my head like a subtle reminder that I chose this separation. I could have stayed. Selfishly enough, I did on many other terms far less fruitful and still this time I did not. As conniving as I am, I had to do right by her. Caroline deserved happiness, and though I was not the man to give it to her I needed to bow out and allow her that right.

On queue, my thoughts wander toward my third and final warring method I might have used. Sparce contact could be a discreet coaxing into my arms, but instead I cut all ties to my blonde beauty. Not a parcel was sent on her birthday (though I have it marred in my memory), not a card was written, nor did a simple telephone call transpire. In the fleeting moments of my time back home, I promised Caroline I would never darken her doorstep again. I always kept my word.

This is not to say my feelings have changed. I am, and might forevermore be, enchanted by Caroline Forbes. I am in love with her. No candle on this earth could hold a flame to the fire that burned in my belly whenever I do allow myself to think of her. Even in my darkest hour, its Caroline's light that guides me.

* * *

With the passing of the New Year, I'd regained my footing in the French Quarter of New Orleans, Louisiana. Although I did not have my hybrids anymore, I had continuously kept in close consort with a lineage of witches. It was they that beckoned me back toward my pinnacle of power, and they that restored my figurative throne at the center of a supernatural community.

This opportunity couldn't have came at a more opportune moment. Freshly out of one hot water bath and into another, I welcomed the challenge. It awakened the senses, and refueled a once insatiable appetite for ruling over a lesser people. That was until the latter part of the month, when I received word through the grapevine that I was being sought out.

I did not believe my accomplice when word that Caroline had been tracking me supposedly came from the brims of my dearest sister. Though I loved Rebekah, she was known for playing a snake in the weeds; and considering my abandoning Mystic Falls meant leaving her as well, she had every reason to deceive me and prey upon my emotions. That was her way.

So, foregoing my sister's warning I continued to indulge on more carnal addictions. Having forsaken the thought of "looking for love", I alleviated the pain by heavy amounts of alcohol, large quantities of blood, and plenty of women for the taking. I was living the life of your typical royal bad boy, and the further I dove over that cliff the smaller the sting of remaining jilted I felt.

* * *

Remember that decade dance? The one in which I promised Caroline that the small town life would never be enough? When I told her I that maybe she'd show up on my doorstep? This was not what I envisioned.

With the swell of summer air in the atmosphere, my body ached and was severely stained from the prior night of feeding and fraternizing. I wanted peace and quite, so I barricaded myself in my chambers. Presuming the evening would consist of the usual ups and downs of my euphoria, I resign to my bed and brood as the low finally sets in.

It had to be that moment, somewhere between the mess I'd made and the maniacal mental fodder, a knock burdened my bedroom door.

"Go away." My response was simple, direct, and definitely blunt.

The insistent noise never faltered. Instead, it grew meek then frantic.

"I said I do not wish to have company!" _Imbecile._

When the tapping stopped, I issued a muttering of a sarcastic thanks.

What happened next, I never suspected. The voice that chimed back was musical though sad, but all too familiar. In a blur of motion, I crossed the expanse of my vast quarters and clasped hold of the door. Surely, this was some sort of witch-influenced torment; but as I ejected into the hall, the back of a head covered in blonde ringlets said otherwise.

_Caroline._

Her scent, her warmth, and all the pleasurable things that Caroline Forbes embodied overwhelmed me in a fight for domination. As weathered tiers finally expelled her name, she turned to grace me with the same ethereal visage I'd come to adore.

"Yes, Klaus. Surprised?"

Asking the obvious would have been moronic, if not driven from such angelic lips.

"Quite frankly my dear, I'm afraid I'm a bit confused." I was, after all.

"Klaus, I need your help."

My fate was sealed. Standing before Caroline in lack-luster attire, I barely deserved her passing glance.

"Name it, and its yours." Just like that, the clean break was forgotten.


End file.
